Niccol's major problem is timing: action sequences and dialogue scenes lie flat on the screen, while his tendency to play around with pacing means that any tension quickly dissipates. Life's too short.
"In Time" gets points for putting forth an interesting concept, but because of Niccol's inability to utilize that concept, we get a film that ends up going nowhere.
A movie so consistently flat-footed, with pauses between lines of dialogue so vast, that you begin to wonder if the whole thing might be a psychological experiment of some kind.
Even with its thoughtful nods to "Bonnie & Clyde" and "Les Miserables," "In time" never delivers that transcendent "Blade Runner" moment, and never rises above cult classic to simple classic.
The film is beautifully shot in chilly blues and grays by cinematographer Roger Deakins, and Los Angeles locales are well chosen for futuristic effect. Most of the time, however, I found myself glancing at the clock on my own wrist.
